Stay
by V.Johnes
Summary: This is the sequel to my story "Can't stop him again". After the end of the case Emily drives Hotch back home to the apartment that used to be theirs. Or at least was supposed to be. Please read "Can't stop him again" before reading this to understand more.
**Criminal Minds 05x02 "Haunted" ~Stay~**

 **A/N: Hey, this is the sequel to my story "Can't stop him again". After the end of the case Emily drives Hotch back home to the apartment that used to be theirs. Or at least was supposed to be. Please read "Can't stop him again" before reading this to understand more. For Vania262 and JuliaGOG who asked for more**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything!**

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 _~Stay~_

"Stay" his voice was soft, so soft that she almost missed it. Her hand froze on the door knob, her back to him, facing him. She didn't know what to do. Had she truly heard him?

"Em" she took another deep breath, her hand fell from the door knob, but she still couldn't make herself to turn around and face him. "Can you please stay?" his voice was a bit lauder now, as if he took every last bit of courage in him. She could still hear the uncertainty in his voice though. Taking another deep breath she turned around facing him, her friend, her love, her boss, her husband, her Aaron. Sure he was a bit broken and a bit too rough around the edges, a bit darker too, but she could now see it, her Aaron was still there, hiding like a scarred child behind the walls he build around him to protect him. He took a hesitant step towards her and waited. He couldn't breathe; he gave her an out the ball was now in her court and all he could do was stand still and wait for her to make her move. It only took her a minute to close the distance between them, the longest minute of his entire life. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, as tightly as she could, just like she wanted to do all day, all week… for two whole weeks actually since the night he left her in her apartment. Her hand run down his back, running soothing circles on his lower back repeatedly. For the first time since Foyett attacked him he feels at peace. It's funny and sad at the same time. The woman he pushed away, afraid to hurt her or get her hurt was the one who brought him solace. How sad that the person he loved more after his son would be the one he had pushed away for whatever reason. Fear was a strong emotion after all. Strange what it can make you do. But standing here in the middle of his living room, few steps from the spot he was lying dying few weeks ago, Emily's arms wrapped tightly around him, her palm traveling up and down his back again in the most soothing manner, one only she can archive, the only emotion he can feel in love. The only thought in his mind is her. Her smell, her hand on his back, her breath on his shoulder… for the first time in a month Foyett was nowhere in his mind.

"Stay?" he felt her smile against his neck, kissing softly the skin there.

"Let's get you to bed. You need sleep Aaron" he looked at her, their eyes locking for the first time in days, and fear gripped him once again, he couldn't sleep. Nightmares filled his sleep, waking him in the middle of the night, multiple times during the night if he was being honest, drenched in sweat. "I know you have nightmares, but you really need sleep Aaron." Her small hand cupped his cheek and he leaned to her touch closing his eyes. He missed her, a lot. "I'll be here with you." He breathed his relieve, when he heard her answer, a bit involuntary. Every night for the past two weeks he went to sleep with her only to wake up alone. Sometimes she had just got up and left in the middle of the night ' _Like you did!'_ his brain tormented him, sometimes thought she was dead. He'd wake up to find her dead, nine stab wounds strategically placed all over her chest and torso plus a slit to her throat which cut her carotid artery. Her blood all over her half naked body, soaking his old t-shirt which she always used in bed, the sheets around her, the blankets, his hands, his clothes, so so much blood everywhere… and a message, a taunting message on the wall across from their bed written in blood, her blood _"You should have made the deal"_

Emily could see the panic raising in his eyes and raised a hand to touch his arm anchoring him to reality, but as soon as her skin made contact he jumped back, his eyes glazy, filled with unshed tears and she hated herself for not noticing earlier. "You ok?" her voice was soft, almost too soft, but he heard her, he'll always hear her voice, but a vice around his throat barely let him drew in any air much less speak. And what to say after all? That he was keeping up appearances, but inside was crumbling, that he couldn't sleep, that he felt alone and scarred in his own house, or that he had misdirected his anger to a poor pharmacist and Garcia? For heaven's sake! Garcia, sweet, smart happy Garcia! Garcia who still left him cookies in his office tonight, who would bring him different flowers every day at the hospital because in her words " _This place is too dull to be healthy",_ Garcia who sneaked him cookies and muffins she baked for him, just the way he liked them when the doctors and the nurses weren't watching. The thought that he hurt Garcia too, not just Emily, his Emily, he started gasping. The vice around his neck was now too tight for him to even breathe, his vision filled with white spots and he felt the carpet under his knees and palms.

She saw him gasping for breath, but before she could really do anything he fell to his knees. Emily run the distance between them, why the hell did she go to the kitchen? He had his head buried in his palms, trying to breathe, trying so hard but no air was entering his lungs. She knew the signs of a panic attack when she sees them; she just never thought she'd see them in him. She kneels down next to him and wraps her arms around his shoulders, for a moment, just a small moment, she feels him tense and just for that moment she thinks that once again he'll push her away, tell her to leave and put his invincible mask back on.

He doesn't, and she breathes as if a weight left her chest…

He feels her arms around his shoulders and although he knows it's her, his flight or fight instinct kicks in. he hates himself for that but he can't stop it, he's been in hyper vigilance for too long. He feels her warmth calling him and he leans towards her, he places his head on her shoulders and slowly turns his whole body to bury his face on her neck hide in her hair. Bury himself in her sweet scent of strawberries and vanilla that follows her hair and skin if he could for the rest of his life. Her hands tighten around him and he tried to breathe normally, he succeeded in breathing slower at least. Air fills his lungs slowly, with each slow breath the burning sensation subsiding as her scent fills the air around him. She is calming, always was, his calm in the storm. Ever since the first time they held each other. Her hand is running circles on his back once more and he feels his heart beat slowing. To an outsider the scene would look ridiculous at least, him, an FBI Unit Chief, SSA hard ass and drill sergeant extraordinaire trying to breathe with his face on her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin, looking like some lost kid. And then he realized how much he must look like the children from their cases. Scared, hurt, unable to trust anyone but her… he was too much like them and for, probably, the first time in his whole adult life he wouldn't give a damn about how he looked. Not even under the knowledge that Foyett was watching him and probably saw him…maybe could see him even right now. He had enough trying to fix everything on his own. He had enough pushing everyone away, hurting the only family he had left. And he knew, oh he knew that he had hurt them. He did just that every time he ignored their phone calls or their knocks on his door pretending to be asleep while in reality he was just inside the door drinking all his pain and regrets and fear down with a glass of scotch. He knew all that and he was done. He swore to himself and whatever God might be listening that starting tomorrow he would get himself back on his feet. He would build himself stronger than he ever was. He will deal with his issues and not push them in the back of his mind. He will let his team, his friends, his family in. let them know how important they are to him with words, and not subtle, blink and you'll miss them, actions that could go unnoticed. "Sometimes people need to hear the words!" that's what his mother always tells him. He will finally act on it. He needs to call her too. She'll be furious he didn't call her earlier. He knows she knows about what happened. She might be getting older but nothing went by her and she does read the papers. Not to mention that either Haley or Emily, if not both, had called her and Sean. Although judging, again, by the fact that they hadn't flew here from Virginia Beach and New York to be with him said enough to him about who called them. Leave it up to Emily to know what exactly to say to calm people down even if their loved one, son, or brother was in the brink of death. He had seen her doing it too many times on the past while on a case. The fact that she had to do the same for him, not some faceless and nameless victim brought few too many tears in his eyes and he couldn't hold them back any more. He knew she felt the wet spot forming on her blouse, he knew she felt the tears falling from his eyes, but she said nothing. She said nothing and he couldn't love her any more for that.

She felt his breath coming back to normal and his heart rate dropping. His body relaxed and for the first time in two weeks so did she. She finally relaxed. For the first time in two weeks she didn't think of how close she came to lose the man in his arms, or that a deranged psychopath was on a war with Aaron, her Aaron and by extension with her and their whole team. For the first time in two weeks she felt relaxed, calm and as incredibly corny as it might sound, complete. In some weird way holding the broken man in front of her made her feel complete. And right then and there she figured everything out. She didn't love him because he was perfect. She loves him because he is broken and his broken pieces fit perfectly to hers. Together they are whole. Apart they are two broken people, but together they are a whole person. And with that realization their whole life together falls into place… Why they were so drawn to each other, why they always were so in sync, why they could communicate with no words, why she knew he was hurt before anyone else, why he felt as if he was being beaten in Colorado or why she felt is if she was blown up in New York. _"You two breathe in sync"_ Dave told her once not too long ago and now she can see why. It was as if everything could be explained and as he leaned closed to her, tightening his hold on her, the smile she was fighting to hold back formed on her lips. She knew… she just knew that she got her husband back and she couldn't be any happier. For the past ten months every logical cell in her brain was warning her that weddings in Vegas with both the groom and the bride overly intoxicated (although she realized that this wasn't that true because she remembers almost everything now) almost never have a happy ending. One in million. Right now she knew that their marriage would be the one in the million. They'll be that couple that got drunk married in Vegas and not only they didn't get an annulment in the morning but stayed together for the rest of their lives. No matter how short or long those lives are going to be. She knows that they both plan on keeping their vows.

To have and to hold,

From this day forward,

For better, for worse,

For richer, for poorer,

In sickness and in health,

To love and to cherish,

Till death do us part.

She knows it now.

He tightened his arms around her and realized something. Something insignificant and earth shattering at the same time if that was even possible. He could see exactly why they were here and how they ended up here. They were both broken but in such way that their broken pieces were complimentary. She was broken where he was whole and she was whole where he was broken. Together they made a whole person. And he knew that one whole person was by far better than two broken ones. He could explain everything and nothing at the same time. Nothing in the world was explained from his revelation but everything in his life did. At least everything that concerned her.

And this time when he hears her voice, he doesn't wonder, like in the past, why she is here with him what she sees in him and stays, or even if she'll be here in the morning because he knows she'll be.

"Let's go to bed" she says and he knows that she means the both of them. He knows that she'll stay with him; she'll be there for him when he wakes up and not only in the morning but every time he wakes up in between. And somewhere deep down he hopes (knows) that tonight it won't be too many times.

Because she'll stay.

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 **A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. It was one of the most emotional stories for me to write and I guess I just got carried away. Let me know what you are thinking**

 **Till next time, Bye!**


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